


I Like You, But I Don't Like You That Much

by Lexus (Beautiful_Ruin)



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Eve does it, Eve does not like the gifts until the LAST ONE, Eve objects to it being more or less clean, F/F, Filth, I just didn't try that hard, I tried to stop them, IT'S NOT MY FAULT, Outdoor Sex, Villanelle does something really filthy that is how the filth begins, Villanelle gets her face smacked in public, Villanelle keeps her strap on in her nightstand, Villanelle wants Eve to smack her pussy with a belt, angst and then filth, bc of the unexpected fisting, bright pink dildo, but Eve and Villanelle are dirty af, but then nothing happens no one washes it, it wasn't supposed to be quite so filthy, it's more or less clean, it's not bloodplay but there's blood and it's Villanelle's, then buys Eve gifts to apologize for hurting her feelings, there's blood, this is really filthy, unexpected chapter two just like there is unexpected fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26056144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Ruin/pseuds/Lexus
Summary: Hope you enjoy this fic that ran away with the dirty part of my imagination =D***8/27/20 update:CHAPTER TWO HAD BEEN PROMISED AND WE HAVE A CHAPTER TWO, PEOPLE!❤️ you all!
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 78
Kudos: 201





	1. Chapter 1

“How can I be honest when I am being a _different person_?” Billie does not really exist, so anything she says will be dishonest, right?

“Aren’t you _always_ a different person?”

 _Not with you_ , she wants to say. “Aren’t you?” she scoffs instead. “At least I’m good at playing someone else.”

“Oh well not that good, obviously.” Eve picks up her things and prepares to leave.

Villanelle’s ego stings. “Don’t speak to me like that, Eve. I like you, but I don’t like you that much.” When Eve stares at her, not looking afraid, not looking anything, she shifts from veiled threat to unveiled insult. “Don’t forget. The only thing that makes you interesting is me.”

Eve freezes at that, and she really should just walk out the door. She has her files and her coffee in her hands, and she should just go. She sets them down on the table, though. She’s not walking away from this one. It is downright the rudest thing Villanelle has ever said to her and she will set a precedent right here, right now, that she won’t accept it lying down.

Eve turns to face Villanelle, her gorgeous jacket and long pink hair, the smug expression in her eyes and on her lips. She takes her time, staring Villanelle down. And then she lifts her hand and smacks Villanelle across the face.

No words need to be said and she snatches up her things and leaves.

Villanelle stares after her, eyes wide, jaw dropped, a throbbing pain in her face and a throbbing pulse between her legs. Eve just slapped her. In public. In a fucking café, Eve just _smacked_ her _face_. Why isn’t she angry? Why isn’t she furious? Why isn’t she following Eve and snapping her fucking neck? She’s not even out of her _seat_ yet.

She asks the question over and over, but it’s a front, because she knows why. She knows very well why. She wants Eve to like her. It would be amazing for Eve to love her, but she’s not optimistic about her chances of that, so she’ll settle for being liked.

She should not have said what she said to Eve. It was a defensive move because her feelings were hurt, and normally her feelings do not get hurt, but they were. They _are_. They are still hurt by Eve’s sharp words and even sharper slap. She _really_ should not have said what she said. There is an ache in her chest now and her eyes fill with tears as she watches Eve disappear down the street. She will need to make this up to Eve.

***

Villanelle waits a few hours before she texts _I’m sorry_ to Eve. The only thing she gets back is _fuck off_. Her chest seizes up and she does not like this feeling at all, and it needs to go away _right now_. She leaves her phone at her place and goes to the nearest club, fucks a random stranger hard and fast in a bathroom stall, and goes home. She will send Eve a gift. That is something she is good at, and it is something normal people do to show they’re sorry.

***

The doorbell rings in the middle of dinner – who is she kidding, she’s eating dry ramen out of the bag – and it had better not be Villanelle at the door.

Eve sets down her ramen on the coffee table and goes to the door. It’s not Villanelle, it’s a delivery guy with flowers, so basically it’s still kind of Villanelle because there’s no way these are from Niko. She thanks him and takes the flowers and shuts the door. She almost laughs at the card, _SORRY BABY, XO_ , but she’s still too annoyed, so she drops the card along with the flowers into the kitchen trash.

Villanelle is across the street with binoculars and she squeaks when Eve throws away her flowers. Angry or not, that is just rude. When Eve throws away her flowers, Villanelle feels thrown away, too.

***

She tries to share a little part of herself with Eve the next time they meet, but Eve does not care. All Eve will talk about is business, even when Villanelle confesses _I feel things when I am with you_. Eve just snaps at her to text Aaron and Villanelle tries to apologize again but Eve is already out the door. Eve has never stayed mad at her for this long and it is very uncomfortable. She will keep trying. She will have to keep trying because she does not think she can bear this.

If Eve does not want flowers, maybe she would like a new bag. Villanelle can get her the best of everything. She goes online to her favorite retailer and orders a very nice, very expensive bag and pays for rush shipping.

***

The doorbell rings in the middle of dinner again – hey, this time she’s at least eating mac and cheese – and she sighs, going to open the door. She is handed a very elegant box and takes it to the sofa to open it. And... wow. It’s a really fucking nice bag. Like... so nice that she’s not sure she can keep herself from accepting the gift. She opens the card and blinks. _Please do not throw this one away, Eve, it was very expensive, XO_.

She grabs her phone and shoots an irritated text.

_E: You were watching me? Do you not understand that that’s creepy?_

Villanelle is giddy that she’s gotten Eve to respond.

_V: how else am I supposed to know if you like your gifts when you are not talking to me?_

_E: I don’t like them. Stop sending me things._

Villanelle’s chest tightens and she fights tears.

_V: are you going to stay mad at me forever?_

_E: Why would you possibly care? Why would you care about someone so uninteresting? You make me interesting, right? So without you, I’m nothing, and you shouldn’t care whether I’m mad at you._

The words sting and Villanelle bites her lip, aching to make it right. She cannot handle Eve hating her, she simply cannot. She will go crazy.

_V: please do not say that eve_

_V: I was upset_

_V: I didn’t mean it_

_E: Leave me alone, Villanelle._

Villanelle lets out a howl of rage, throwing her phone across the room with such force that the screen shatters. Fifteen minutes later she has torn her apartment asunder and is curled up in one corner, feeling so much emptiness it is overwhelming.

They both know she is not going to leave Eve alone.

***

Eve gets expensive chocolates hand delivered to her at work the next day. There’s one missing out of the box and Villanelle’s note makes her laugh in spite of herself. _I ate one to make sure they were good enough for you, XO_. Of course she did. Eve is actually surprised there’s only one missing. She doesn’t throw them away, but she doesn’t eat them, either. She gives them to Elena and Kenny.

_E: I told you to stop sending me things._

_V: did you eat the chocolates?_

_E: No._

_V: eve, I am really trying_

Eve feels something wicked stir inside her.

_E: Flowers, an expensive bag, and chocolates? I never thought you’d be predictable, Villanelle._

Eve thinks maybe that’s why she’s bored with the gifts. Because they aren’t _Villanelle_.

_E: Try harder._

Villanelle’s stomach twists sharply when she reads the second text. Eve doesn’t like the gifts because they were _predictable_? She had been trying to send normal things, but maybe that has been her mistake. Eve has always liked her for who she is, for her style and flair and unapologetic inappropriateness, so of course she should not be sending flowers and chocolates!

Villanelle knows exactly what she will send. Eve will not even expect this, she is going to do something so... naughty.

***

Once she is sure Eve is home for the night and not going to have any visitors, Villanelle sneaks into the backyard. She knows Eve is in the living room and will not be able to see her, plus it is dark out. She lays a velvet-lined box by the back door and reaches into her pants, carefully removing the dildo she’s had in there for hours, making sure it is visibly wet, and sets it in the box. She closes the box and fixes her pants, then pulls up the five-second video she’d taken earlier in the evening (after getting a new phone). She presses send and watches the blue line make its way across the top of the multimedia message. As soon as she hears the whoosh of delivery, she knocks on the door and slips out of sight.

Eve wonders who in the fuck would be knocking on her back door, and goes to open it in a rush of irritation, only to see a box on the ground. Her eyes dart around for Villanelle just as her phone buzzes, and her face gets hot when she opens the text because Jesus Christ it’s a short video clip of Villanelle masturbating with a bright pink dildo and winking at the camera, and Eve shoves her phone in her pocket and stares down at the box. She already knows what’s going to be in it.

She knows this is her own fault for calling V predictable and taunting her to try harder. She hadn’t expected quite this level of fuckery, though. Is she going to open the—yes, of course she is, because even though she’s been mad at Villanelle, she’s still obsessed with Villanelle and that’s never going to change. She picks up the box and opens it, and almost drops it because the fucking dildo is still wet.

She knows that Villanelle is watching her from somewhere nearby, and for once she doesn’t care where. She takes the dildo out of the box by its base, drops the box on the ground, and licks Villanelle’s come off the tip.

Villanelle almost breaks her hand biting so hard into it. And she still doesn’t entirely muffle her desperate groan.

“I know you’re there, Villanelle,” Eve says quietly into the air of the backyard. She puts the whole tip in her mouth now and sucks.

Villanelle is still afraid to show herself because she’s terrified that Eve will end the moment as soon as she does. So she sends a text.

_V: do you forgive me yet, eve?_

Eve’s phone buzzes and she fishes it from her pocket, reads the text and puts it back.

“I’m standing in my backyard sucking your come off of a bright pink dildo. What do you think?” She pauses for a second and then adds, “which tastes fantastic by the way. I always figured you would taste as good as you smell.”

Villanelle can’t help it anymore, she whimpers and comes out from behind the shed, hands shoved deep into her pockets. “You like the way I taste?” she asks, vulnerable and aroused at the same time. She’s still a good twenty feet away from Eve and standing still.

“Come here,” Eve says, because she has to admit that brushing Villanelle off for days has taken a toll on her too. She misses this, these give and takes, the moments of inequality and the moments where they are very much equal.

Villanelle walks slowly over and comes to a stop a few feet away. Eve hands her the dildo and pulls her dress up to her thighs, and Villanelle quite literally cannot breathe. She should ask if Eve is sure. She is not going to ask this, but she should.

Eve’s other hand disappears beneath her dress and Villanelle watches, transfixed, as black lace panties come into view. Eve leaves them around her knees and straightens back up, and waits.

Villanelle finally breathes, but it’s lacking, and she closes the last few feet of distance between them, putting her empty hand under Eve’s dress and between her thighs, and she’s drowning. Her fingers are drowning. Everything tightens inside her and she puts her other hand under Eve’s dress too, using both to guide the head of the toy to the spot Eve wants it, and then she pushes it all the way inside.

Eve gasps and drops her dress, grabbing Villanelle’s arms and dropping her forehead onto V’s shoulder. “Fuck,” she pants out softly, because it’s so, so good, and it’s only made better by the knowledge that this cock was inside _Villanelle_ before it went inside her.

“Can you feel my come inside your pussy, Eve?” Villanelle asks, eyes sparkling, giving the toy a twist.

“I’m too wet,” Eve says. “But I can still feel it in my mouth...”

Villanelle holds off a groan, forcing a smirk instead, and twists the toy sharper, pulls it out and pushes in again, hard. Eve groans though, and it’s loud. Villanelle loves it. “Why did you decide to let me fuck you?” she whispers against Eve’s ear.

“Because you sent me a video of yourself masturbating with a cock that you left for me at my back door?” Eve manages to say as if that should be obvious. “That’s one reason.”

“And the other reason?” She holds the toy still.

“There are a lot of reasons. We’ll be here forever.” Eve tries to grind down for more pressure.

“We’ll be here forever anyway, Eve. Did you think I was going to fuck you and run off? No, baby, this is going to be a long night...” She lets Eve have a little bit of pressure and another little twist. “Tell me more of the reasons.”

“I could smell you on the cock and it made my mouth water,” Eve says, biting down gently between Villanelle’s neck and shoulder. Villanelle is not giving her enough. “If you want to fuck me, baby, then _fuck_ me,” she demands.

Villanelle’s eyes darken; a predator in its true form. She backs Eve up against the glass doors to the house and kisses her with the intention of leaving her lips bruised the same time as she starts a hard, quick in-and-out with the cock. “I should have known better,” she says when she pulls back from the kiss. “I should have brought a harness. I can pound so much harder with my hips than my hands, baby...”

Eve makes a strangled noise and bangs her head on the glass behind her. “Oh God,” she complains. Why the fuck doesn’t she own a harness?! There has never been a reason to but at the moment she is cursing her years of heterosexuality, or at least cursing that they were spent with a man who wasn’t into pegging, for fuck’s sake! She hates that it takes being blitz-fucked by Villanelle in the backyard wishing for a strap-on to make her realize how boring her sex life has been. “Keep talking.”

Villanelle likes this turn of events. She is positively soaked, but never mind about that because she’s focused on Eve. Eve wants her to talk dirty. “Mmm... while I was fucking you with my hips, baby, I would probably want something to put in your ass. Do you like that, Eve?” Eve’s groan says she does, but Eve doesn’t answer. “With something in your ass, you would come faster,” she purrs. “Then I would have more _time_ to make you come more _times_.”

Villanelle is pumping into her pretty hard and fast, and Eve can’t actually imagine how much harder it would be with a strap-on because she feels like she’s going to split apart any second from the force of it _now_. Villanelle is strong; she has always known that, but now her cunt gets to feel it and it’s fucking delicious.

“Talk to me too,” Villanelle says, giving her a soft kiss that seems somehow obscene for the situation. “What would you do to me?”

“Everything,” Eve moans. “I would do _everything_ , and I want to know _everything_ , and I want you to let me have _everything_ that makes you the amazing picture of complexity that you are. There is nothing easy about you, V, and it’s fucking perfect.”

Villanelle shivers and drops kisses along Eve’s throat, marking with her teeth every few inches so Eve will have something to look at in the morning. And at work. Especially at work, where other people will see. She doesn’t want Eve to hide the marks with a turtleneck so she makes a dark one right in the middle of Eve’s jaw. “I want everyone at your work to know you let me fuck you, Eve,” she says, low and excited. “Tell me what else you would do to me...”

Eve groans and lifts one leg to wrap around Villanelle’s thighs. “I don’t know...”

Villanelle pushes in and out, swiping a thumb over Eve’s clit. “Would you slap my pussy if I asked you to, Eve?”

Villanelle’s voice is as filthy as her words, and Eve cries out at the touch to her clit. “Yes,” she answers the question. She would most definitely do that.

“With a belt?” Villanelle probes further, rubbing her thumb in circles and pressing the cock firmly, holding it inside.

Eve makes some kind of sound and holds Villanelle tightly to her. “Yes,” she manages to choke out as she starts to tighten.

“I want you to do it, Eve,” Villanelle purrs into her ear. “I want you to slap my pussy with a belt after I make you come.” She rubs her thumb faster and bites Eve’s earlobe. “Will you do it?”

“Yes,” Eve says, and she tightens all the way, suspended for a second and then crashing. Her moans fill the air and she hopes the neighbors are sleeping, but if not oh well because she’s having the best sex of her life so they can fuck off. Her hips buck forward, trapping Villanelle’s hand between their bodies, and she shudders out her release. When she starts to come back to Earth she sees a porch light go on, and she ignores it. She stands panting softly, head tucked against Villanelle’s neck, chest heaving, and she pulls up her panties. “Come inside,” she whispers. “I’ll get a belt.”

Villanelle slides the toy out of Eve and bends to pick up its box, securing it safely inside before she follows Eve into the house and closes the door behind her. She sets the box on the dining table and takes off her shoes, then continues to follow Eve, past the dining room and around the banister to head up the stairs.

Eve slips into her closet and emerges with two different belts, a wide leather one and a narrow fabric one. Villanelle nods at the wide leather one and undoes her pants, letting them fall and pool at her feet. She watches Eve put back the fabric belt and come toward her.

“Do you still want me to do it?” Eve asks, stopping in front of her, and then Eve’s hand is rubbing over the soaked crotch of her underwear.

She grabs Eve’s wrist and stops her, but nods again. “Yes. I will undress myself.”

Eve can take a hint and backs off, folding the belt in half while she waits and working in a good crease.

Villanelle has not asked anyone to do this for her before because she has never trusted anyone the way she trusts Eve. She removes her panties and socks and jacket, leaving her in a crisp white oxford, which she opts to remain in. She lays on Eve’s bed and draws her knees up, spreading her legs. “Make sure you do it hard, okay?”

Eve nods and steps forward, eyes drawn between Villanelle’s legs, her mouth watering at the slickness she can see even from a few feet away in the dimly lit room. Villanelle is drenched. She doesn’t say anything about it, though. “Are you ready?” Maybe if they do this again, Villanelle will let her use her hands or her mouth, but she understands and she’s okay with doing it this way for now.

“I am ready.” Villanelle leans her head back onto the mattress and looks at the ceiling, waiting. Waiting for the sharp slap of leather on her most sensitive parts; the bite she knows she will feel, and she shivers.

Eve moves a little closer and pulls the end of the belt up with her left hand, then flicks her right wrist hard to send the leather singing against Villanelle’s cunt.

Villanelle moans and her hips jerk, but she settles quickly. “Again.”

Eve snaps the belt down again. The sound of it, of leather impacting flesh, is almost intoxicating. She wants to hear it again, but she waits.

Villanelle moans again, quieter this time, and her hips don’t move as much. She wants to be still. She wants to be silent. She will get better at controlling her reactions. It is her first time, after all, and she cannot be blamed for how amazing it feels. “Again.”

Eve gears up and lets it fly again, reveling in the sound. She notices Villanelle doesn’t move this time, and only a soft whimper comes out. Villanelle is schooling herself, Eve realizes, and for some reason that thought is so unbearably erotic she can barely breathe.

“Again.”

“Can I do it twice in a row?” Eve asks before she can stop herself. Villanelle’s eyes smolder.

“Yes.”

Eve swallows and takes her time setting up the strokes, and then she snaps the belt harder than she has done so far, following immediately with another heavy slap. Villanelle’s pussy is red and swollen, and Eve hasn’t seen anything more fascinating in her entire life.

Villanelle is silent and does not move as the pleasure rails through her on the heels of the pain. Her legs shake and instinctively close as the sensation peaks, and she is still silent when she comes.

Eve is breathing hard, because tonight is the hottest thing she’s ever done, and she’s afraid she has just unleashed another obsession.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promised it and here it is! VERY angsty but also filthy.

Villanelle is very happily climbing into bed when Eve halts her.

“What are you doing?”

Villanelle stops with the sheet halfway turned down and looks at her. “I am tired, Eve. It is late.”

Has Villanelle lost her mind? “You aren’t sleeping here,” she says, incredulous.

“What?”

“You think I’m closing my eyes with you in my house?”

Villanelle feels that like a sucker punch to the gut and she stares at Eve. “You do not trust me?”

“Uh, no.”

“I just want to sleep next to you,” Villanelle says. “Do you really think I would hurt you? I would not hurt you. I love you, Eve.”

“You don’t know what that is.”

Villanelle’s eyes fill with tears. “Yes I do, I love you...” Why will Eve not believe her? She loves Eve with every breath she takes. “Please do not make me leave.”

It really isn’t Villanelle that Eve is mad at, it’s herself for giving in when she swore she wouldn’t. “Don’t be a baby,” she says with a frown. “It’s time for you to go. Get dressed, okay? I’m tired.”

Villanelle understands now why people use the stupid term heartbroken. It feels like her heart has broken open inside her chest and is bleeding out, warm and sticky, down into her other organs. She finally drops the sheet and makes sure Eve cannot see her crying as she gets dressed and leaves without another word.

Five people die on her way home.

***

Eve tosses and turns all night. You would think she would be unable to sleep because she was so harsh with Villanelle, but no. She can’t sleep because she’s pissed at herself for not just slamming that box shut and walking back inside, locking and fucking _barricading_ the doors. Or even not opening the damn box in the first place. Even better.

Barricading the doors. _Really, Eve_? Would that even keep Villanelle out? Probably not. If only she could invoke the law of the original Buffy movie and make Villanelle a vampire so she would have to be invited in.

Wow. Eve really needs to sleep.

***

The next day, Eve watches through a café window as Villanelle murders Amber Peel’s babysitter. What in the actual _FUCK_ , and... why doesn’t she care? Because she realizes that she _doesn’t care_. This is very bad. This is a bad turning point, realizing she doesn’t care about a woman dying because it will make her and Villanelle’s jobs easier.

Villanelle is a bad influence and Eve needs to stay away from her outside of work.

Later that afternoon, a little bit after the ridiculous kill commander comment, she gets a text.

_V: what did I do wrong, eve?_

_E: I don’t want to talk to you, Villanelle._

_V: please, eve, I do not understand_

_E: Of course you don’t. You’re barely even human. Don’t text me._

She regrets it as soon as she sends it, and her fingers tighten around her phone, but she lets it be. She needs Villanelle to not want to see her, either.

***

Konstantin is very alarmed when Villanelle stops walking and puts her fist through a car window, but that is nothing compared to his level of alarm when he sees that she is _crying_. This is not something Villanelle _does_. “Villanelle?” he says, trying to sound... nice.

Villanelle’s hand is bleeding and her knuckles are throbbing and the car’s alarm is blaring, but none of it matters. She drops to the ground in the middle of the sidewalk, for once not caring that she might ruin her beloved clothes. How could Eve say this to her? _How_? After everything they have been through, after Eve stabbed her in Paris and she forgave that... after she never hurt the moustache because she learned her lesson with Anna, after they were so hot and open and intimate with each other, how could Eve say this? If it had been anyone else, Villanelle would not care this much, or probably at all, but it is Eve, and her heart is broken for the second time in two days, and she feels like she cannot exist. It is too painful. She is crying and sitting in the middle of a busy sidewalk, and she is so, so empty. Not empty like she usually is; not empty like Billie, but empty in the way that she had almost had something to fill her completely and now it is _gone_.

Konstantin doesn’t know what to do in this situation because it has never happened before. He sees Villanelle’s phone on the ground and picks it up, his eyes going wide as he stares at the screen. He cannot believe what he is reading. Why would Eve say something like this? At least now Villanelle’s behavior makes sense. “Villanelle,” he says. “She does not mean this.”

Villanelle makes a fist and punches the mailbox she’s next to, over and over and over until Konstantin is bodily lifting her and dragging her away from it.

“Villanelle, no,” he says. “We are going home.” He will have to carry her.

***

Dinner is a fucking disaster and Eve is about to give Villanelle a piece of her mind when Konstantin stops her, and she sighs, slumping in defeat.

“I saw what you text to her,” Konstantin says.

Eve is back on high alert posture, staring at him. “What? Why were you looking at her phone?”

“Because she punched out a car window and sat in the middle of the sidewalk crying,” he says, and it’s obvious he is only barely controlling his anger. “I wanted to know what was wrong. She does not do these things, Eve. Cry. She does not cry. You made her cry!”

Eve flinches when he finally raises his voice, and if she hadn’t already been feeling guilty for what she said, that’d do it. She made Villanelle cry. She is a fucking asshole. “I—”

“She loves you, you know this?” Konstantin continues, pointing a finger at her and puffing up like a blowfish. “She loves you more than clothes, more than Anna, more than herself, she loves you. Why would you say something like this to her?!”

Eve’s jaw drops and she flounders. What can she possibly say to justify her heinous words? I didn’t mean it? _Oh yeah, that’s great, Eve. You said one of the worst things you could say to a person and it’s fine because you didn’t mean it? Get a grip_. Konstantin saying that Villanelle loves her somehow puts things into perspective for her and she bursts into tears. “I’m sorry!”

Konstantin blinks. Seriously? Two crying women for him today? This is not a record he was trying to break, to improve upon his previous number of crying women of zero. That record was fine. This record not so good. “I am not the one to apologize to! Get your head out of your ass!”

“Okay!” Eve screams, because they’re both being loud and why wouldn’t she scream in this situation?

“Okay!” he screams back.

“Okay!” she screams again, and then they’re both quiet while she gets her act together and stops crying.

***

Villanelle is knuckle-deep in a blond she picked up outside a roast shack when she hears a key in the door and she swears to God, if Konstantin—oh. It’s Eve. Looking wild and upset and like she’s been crying, and—and beautiful. “I don’t want to see you,” she lies, the movement of her hand in the blonde’s cunt never wavering despite the turmoil wreaking havoc on her insides.

“Get out,” Eve says to the two women in Villanelle’s bed.

“They are not leaving, you are,” Villanelle says, still pumping her fingers, though she does note that the blonde has lost a bit of enthusiasm.

“I know where she keeps her guns,” Eve says loudly to the two women. “You have thirty seconds to get out.”

Villanelle growls when the blonde gets off of her hand and she picks up the lamp on her nightstand, jerking the cord from the wall and chucking the whole thing with fury at Eve.

Eve ducks and the lamp crashes into the wall, shattering bits of ceramic everywhere, and the two women Villanelle had been fucking are out the door five seconds later.

“Fuck you, Eve!” Villanelle screams, reaching for something else to throw, but there’s only a watch, and that’s pathetic. “Get out of my apartment!” She is not going to let Eve hurt her ag—Eve is stripping her clothes off and throwing them. “No. No! Put that on! Put those back on!” Eve is _naked_. Villanelle should be turned on but she is angry, she is so angry, and she is hurt and that makes her more angry.

“I’m not leaving,” Eve says, crawling onto the bed, over Villanelle on all fours.

Naked. On all fours and naked. Eve is so naked. Villanelle expects to feel a touch, to feel fingers untying the sash of her very luxurious and gorgeous robe, but there is nothing.

Eve moans and Villanelle looks down and Eve is touching herself. Not only just. She is _fucking_ herself with two fingers. “Are you wet?”

She wants to say no. “Yes.”

“How much of it was them and how much is me?”

“It’s all them.”

“Liar.”

“It’s all you.”

“Liar.”

Villanelle can’t help a tiny smile even though she is still so hurt and raw and afraid. She is afraid to let Eve close again because it worked out very terribly the last time. “Most of it is you. A little of it is left over from them.”

“That sounds more truthful.” Eve pulls her fingers out of herself and paints Villanelle’s lips with one fingertip, then pushes both fingers into V’s mouth.

Before Villanelle even has time to close her mouth, Eve’s fingers disappear, and she is about to protest the injustice when Eve unties her robe and lets it fall open, and she is naked underneath.

“How long did it take for your pussy to settle down?” Eve asks, staring between Villanelle’s rather lewdly spread legs.

“Almost a day,” Villanelle says. “Are you going to slap my pussy again, Eve?”

“Maybe.” Eve pauses. “Do you want me to?”

Villanelle bites her lip, eyes on Eve’s hand. “With your hand this time?” It’s a question, not an invitation, but before she has a chance to even consider the possibility, Eve’s hand comes down without warning, a sharp slap between her legs, and she groans. Eve slaps her pussy again.

“Which do you like better? My hand or the belt?”

Villanelle shudders. “They are equal and opposite reactions.” She closes her eyes.

“Science. Wow.”

“Eve.” She’s getting impatient. She expects Eve to slap her again, so when she feels a finger stroke through her slick and push inside her, her eyes fly open and her hand flies to Eve’s wrist, intending to force it away.

“Let me touch you,” Eve whispers. She is already inside but she holds her hand still while she waits for Villanelle’s decision.

Villanelle stares up at her. “Do not be gentle.” The look in her eyes is clear: _I do not trust you enough to let you be gentle with me_.

Eve deserves that, and when she nods, Villanelle lets go of her wrist. She pulls out and pushes back in with three fingers, and Villanelle is wet enough for them to slide right deep. “Did you like fucking that stranger?” Eve asks, pumping her fingers harder and faster than she normally would from the starting line. “That blonde? And that brunette, was she supposed to be me?” She gives a particularly hard thrust at that.

Villanelle arches her back and reaches her hands up to twist in Eve’s hair. “I liked fucking the blonde,” she says, eyes holding Eve’s gaze, and Eve punishes her for that by squeezing in a fourth finger, and she gasps, her eyes going wide. Her hips squirm without her consent, trying to edge away from the stretch, but Eve grabs her shoulder so she can’t. She lets out a yell when all four of Eve’s fingers carve out a space for themselves inside her, and holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck because Eve is not stopping. Four fingers isn’t enough for Eve, Villanelle can already tell that she is going to put—“Fuuuuck!” she shrieks, pulling Eve’s hair in retaliation, surprised when she doesn’t end up with a handful of detached strands.

“You didn’t want gentle,” Eve says, carefully tucking her thumb and giving a slight push.

“I don’t,” Villanelle pants, sweat beading on her forehead, and it takes a monumental effort to hold still and let Eve do this. “You are going to put your whole fucking hand inside me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Eve says. “Unless you tell me no. Are you telling me no?”

“I am telling you not to be gentle,” Villanelle growls. She wants it to hurt because if Eve walks away again, she needs to feel like this is just raw, dirty sex. Something she could have with anyone. Something not specific to Eve, not involving feelings or thoughts, just base desire. “Do it. Get it in. I want it. Now.” She bucks her hips and whines, unable to hold any part of her still, because it’s almost—it’s so close, if Eve would just—

Eve watches in fascination as her entire hand finally disappears into Villanelle’s cunt, and the sound that is torn from the feral creature beneath her is nothing short of haunting. She will be haunted by that sound for as long as she lives... she knows this as much as she knows her name. She is careful – even though Villanelle doesn’t want her to be careful – as she curls her fingers and makes a fist.

There is a split second of suspended animation where nothing happens, they just stare at each other, and Villanelle wonders if Eve will chicken out, but then her eyes roll back and she screams because she is suddenly being _pounded_. “FUCK!”

Eve drops her head to suck on Villanelle’s clit, tongue mirroring the speed of her fist with flicks and the occasional swirl.

Villanelle is going to come really fucking hard, she knows this from the moment Eve’s hand fits inside her, but even though she knows it, she is not _prepared_ for it, and it wrecks her. She is loud. She is so loud she hurts her own ears and she does not even know the name of whatever loud noises she is making. Her thighs clamp down and it hurts so much and it feels so good, and she can’t breathe............... and then she can. She is shivering, her fists tight in Eve’s hair, arms shaking, legs shaking, belly shaking, cunt throbbing, _everything_ alive with yearning and satisfaction all at once. She slumps back to the bed, and she knows she’s a hot mess, but she loves it. _That_ was some _fucking_.

Eve is amazed at the cycle she watches Villanelle go through, and she’s amazed at the noises ringing in her ears, and when Villanelle finally goes boneless, she relaxes her fist, slowly uncurling her fingers, and when she slips her hand out, there is _blood_.

She lifts her head to peer at Villanelle, who looks oddly sated despite the hypervigilance in her eyes and a few still-twitching muscles. The guilt is eating her alive. “I’m sorry,” she finally says, her voice quiet, ashamed.

“Because you made me bleed a little? Eve, I am not afraid of _bleeding_ ,” Villanelle says with a dismissive snort.

“No,” Eve says, deadly serious. “I’m so sorry for what I said.”

“So you are not sorry for making me bleed? That is _rude_ , Eve.”

Villanelle is deflecting, and why shouldn’t she? Eve has given her no reason to be trusting. “Villanelle.”

Villanelle does not want to _feel_. “Don’t.”

“I have to.”

“You do not have to.”

“I have to,” Eve insists, and it is a little strange to be sitting there with her hand covered in Villanelle’s blood, talking instead of going to the bathroom to clean up, but she has to make this right.

“You do not h—”

“I was terrified.”

“What?” Villanelle tries to sit up but she can’t really because Eve is still mostly on top of her, so she drops back to the bed.

“I was terrified of the things I’ve always known are inside myself so I blamed you for them.”

This sounds like a real, true, heartfelt apology and Villanelle can barely breathe. “You hurt me so much.” She doesn’t like admitting this but she needs Eve to know. She needs Eve to know that she _knows_ what love is and she _feels_ things, so deeply. “I know what love is, Eve, I do.”

“I know,” Eve says, and she leans down to kiss Villanelle. “You are not the problem. I am so fucking sorry I hurt you... I can’t ever even begin to tell you how sorry. Maybe knowing that you love me was scaring me too.”

“I don’t want to hurt, Eve... I do not like this feeling in my chest, like my heart is bleeding out through my lungs and my liver and my spleen...”

“I don’t think you can feel your spleen,” Eve whispers, and kisses her again. “There is no excuse for what I said to you, Villanelle, and I only hope you believe me when I say it isn’t true.”

Villanelle shrugs one shoulder. “It is what it is.”

“No, V. You are one of the most human humans I’ve ever known. I was trying to make you hate me.”

Villanelle thinks she is starting to understand. “Because you were hating yourself.”

Eve nods, tears brimming in her eyes. “Please let me spend eternity trying and failing to make it up to you...”

The protective cage around her bleeding heart loosens a little and Villanelle has room to breathe. “You already have a key to my apartment,” she jokes, because the moment is getting too intense. She can go longer and longer these days without making a joke, but right now she is at her limit.

“And I’m not giving up that key for anything,” Eve says with a laugh. “You’re stuck with me, okay?”

“Only if you lick my come off of that bright pink dildo again. In your backyard.”

Eve’s laugh gets a little louder and fuller and she sits up, pulling Villanelle with her and into a hug. “I will do that for you any time you want me to.”

Villanelle smirks. “Could you imagine, Eve, if someone was reading a story about us and you did that? What would people think?”

Eve snorts. “Who would write a story about us, Villanelle?”

Villanelle kisses Eve’s neck. “Maybe I will.”

“I’d love to read that.”

“I might let you. Right now I really want to fuck you, though.” She maneuvers out from under Eve and rolls over to open the drawer of her nightstand and grabs her harness.

“You keep—yeah. Of course you do.” Eve shakes her head.

“I am the only one who lives here, Eve. I keep everything I like to play with very close to my bed.”

“Of course you do,” Eve says again. “Is that clean?”

“More or less.”

“Villanelle!”

Villanelle ignores her and puts on the harness, and she stands up and moves quickly behind Eve, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her backward to the edge of the bed. And then she puts one hand between Eve’s shoulder blades and shoves.

Eve oofs as she goes down to all fours again, but it’s a little different this time since Villanelle is standing behind her with a strap-on. She turns her head and blinks as she watches Villanelle guide the tip. “That’s kind of bi—JESUS CHRIST, VILLANELLE!” she shrieks, dropping down onto her elbows just because she has to do _something_. Fuck, that is extremely unpleasant and she wonders if it’s a passive aggressive form of payback.

“Sorry, Eve, I was _excited_ ,” Villanelle says, rolling her eyes. She waits for a second or two and then pats Eve’s back. “You are okay now, yes? I can start moving?”

“No!” Eve shouts. “You cannot start moving! Give me a minute!”

Villanelle traces patterns on Eve’s back with one fingertip as she waits. “I can’t believe you did not wash your hands. You are getting blood all over my sheets. Those are very expensive sheets.”

“Well I can’t believe you didn’t take a shower. You have blood all over your thighs. And you got some on the sheets too where it dripped.”

“Whose fault was that, _Eve_?” She taps her nails impatiently on Eve’s lower back. “Can I move yet?”

“I swear to fucking God if you ask me one more time if you can move yet—”

“Now?”

Eve lets out a roar that is very impressive and Villanelle thinks it rivals one of her own very best ones.

“That was very good, Eve. Are you practicing to be me?”

“You know what? Go ahead and move. Anything’s better than this,” Eve grumbles.

“God, you are impatient,” Villanelle says with a scoff.

Eve just buries her face in her hands. Villanelle is going to drive her batshit crazy. But she is going to love every minute of it.


End file.
